


A Rose By Any Other Name

by Sandalaris



Series: the white rabbit's pocketwatch [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crazy Belle (Once Upon a Time), F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandalaris/pseuds/Sandalaris
Summary: Rumplestiltskin reflects, and the sheriff comes asking about Belle.Rumple's point of view over the return of his True Love.





	A Rose By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Saw on Tumblr that Belle was nineteen when she met Rumple. Sorry if anyone has a problem with that particular age gap, although I often think that Belle was at the Dark Castle for some time before feelings developed let alone either of them deciding to act on it, so she was probably about 20 to 21 when Regina got her hands on her. Then again Rumplestiltskin is over three centuries so even if she was fifty that's still a set of years between them. Feel free to ignore that line if it does bother you.
> 
> I also decided on an age for Mr. Gold; forty-five. But since Regina probably didn't know how old human!Rumple was at the time he became the Dark One I think she just took a shot in the dark. Or rather the curse did. There was too many things that happened in Storybrooke that Regina could not have known tied back to the inhabitant's former lives that I have a feeling she meddle where she wanted/needed too but mostly let the curse do it's own thing. So Mr. Gold was between 45 and 50 in my headcanon, while Rumpelstiltskin didn't keep track of his age, because it was hardly important to a poor family in a war ravaged country.

Mr. Gold had been strong, in his own way. Coming from humble beginnings and building for himself an empire in a small Maine town, according to the backstory the curse provided for him. An impressive force who thought himself a near invincible power in Storybrooke, he was feared and respected and so utterly untouchable. 

Rumpelstiltskin squashed him in the moments it took for a lost princess' name to trip from her tongue. Gold may have tried to fight, had he the foresight to see it coming, but a meer seventy-three years of a combination of muddled and false memories were no match for three hundred plus of the Dark One, nor the forgotten number of years of a coward's desperation. He was a flea in a tsunami and he drowned without a ripple.  

Mr. Gold was content in his lot, having his power and wealth. All his wishes and dreams met. There was no lost son nor unfaithful wife. No believed dead love. His plots and schemes had lasted meer months over the centuries long game Rumpelstiltskin preferred. He was content, but never happy. 

But Rumpelstiltskin still felt a sense of gratitude towards the memories of the cheap imposter masquerading in his skin all the same. He brought in his Belle with her twig strewn hair and bare, bloody feet. Had taken her in and hid her from the forces that separated them, although he supposes that the curse may have had it's hand in that, nudging past events to repeat themselves with less satisfactory results.  

Oh, he's no fool. Understands perfectly that while he may be immune from the curse's primary purpose, if not it's outlining affects, she is not. There will be no happy ending for his True Love as long as the Dark Curse is in effect, although she has not been affected the same way, has a taste of the newly awakened false prince in her reactions, all confusion and instinct, a touch of the Mad Hatter in her sporadic reasonings. And the fight, oh always a fight with his Belle, unwilling to take the easy road and just believe the lie. No matter the results it seems to have on her struggling thoughts. 

There's no purpose, he thinks. The curse having not designed her a persona, seeing no need with her locked away from the world. From him. The little amnesiac currently humming to herself in a mash of tunes, disjointed bits of songs from two different worlds, has no identity to turn to. Lady Belle is buried too deeply and Rose Deflue is nothing but a name on a hospital form to keep it all legal. No family, no friends, no one to notice her absence.  

She's different too, quiet in a way that's too guarded to be in the same vein to her curious observations in his castle upon her first arrival. She's not taking in the world, seems instead to skitter her gaze from it, refusing to look at it head on in the way of her whole self. Or perhaps is was the years spent locked away, both away from him and within the Dark Castle. He does not delude himself that he was a kind master but he fears even his darkest moments were kinder than what she faced in the thirty years under Regina's tender care.

"Must make do," she mumbles to herself, coming in from his kitchen carrying a tray set out with all the necessities for tea. She's constantly muttering under her breath these days, nonsensical things when she's struggling to fit what she knows into the what the curse tells her is true. 

She sets the tray before him, reaching for the milk with an instinctual absent-mindedness that has him watching her, waiting. She freezes, the small pitcher hovering between the two cups of steaming tea, caught between them with a level of uncertainty that rivals even her first days at the Dark Castle, when she thought him the monster of her nightmares.  

"Pour it in mine, dearest," he says softly. She doesn't jump, but there's a flinch around her eyes, a dash of fear in the brief downturn of her mouth, and he wonders what the curse is doing inside her head. What demons it's brought forth to torment her over something so mundane. 

"Sit," he continues, "talk to me for a bit."  

She's cautious, even now that he knows of her history in the asylum. He retrieved those records the day after he learned where Regina had hidden his Belle, and whispered as soothingly as he was able that he wouldn't send her back when she had shredded them in mindless hysteria. In hindsight perhaps he shouldn't have shown her. It seems he's always realizing his mistakes too late with his love.  

This Belle measures her words, watches his response to them, always holding back. The curses' doing or her own reaction to the past few decades, he's unsure.  

She still holds a curious intelligence though, the curse hasn't taken that from her. It probably didn't bother, the way it did with Queen Snow's steel spine or the cricket's unfailing drive to meddle. Or maybe it was Regina, too caught up in her revenge to plan for the possibility of Belle's escape.  

He suppresses a grin, knowing it likely his former protégé had underestimated the girl. 

There's a sharp mind in there, even with the cursed madness. The same mind that had drawn him in during her days in his service. Her courage caught his attention, but her intelligence kept it, and no amount of madness was going to push him away. Not now, not this time. 

She's still the highly observant young woman she was, seeing more than he'd expect. And has become vigilant at the most random of times. Caught up in her thoughts to the point of walking into walls one day and then obsessively watching for signs that "they" are coming for her the next. And for all his knowledge and experience in nudging others into believing what he wills, he doesn't know how to convince her she's not going anywhere.  

She promised him forever and now that she's back in his clutches, letting her go is not a mistake he plans to repeat. 

-

Belle lies sleeping in the back room, because he's unwilling to let her stray far from him, and he is minding the shop because Gold still has to be keep up appearances. 

The bell above his door chimes, the huntsman coming in. 

"Mr. Gold," he greets. 

"Sheriff," he returns, letting his lips curl up in a smile. "What brings you in this afternoon?" 

The Queen's hunter gives him his best professional stance, feet spread wide and hands on his belt. A puppy playing at being an alpha. 

"We had a break out at the hospital?" It's a question, even if it's not meant to be. A small stance against his mistress that Rumpelstiltskin files away for later. 

Years of experience keep him from pausing, simply offering a raised brow. It amazes him how much fear he's able to provoke with his more mundane appearance, it's disconcerting how different it is too.

"Break-out?" He sinks as much irony in his voice as he can while still keeping it light. 

A wince escapes the sheriff's control before he gives a world weary sigh, slipping a smidgen more from his leash. 

"The Mayor's worried. Apparently the patient's prone to violent outbursts. She seemed to think you might have seen her." 

"Don't see why I particularly would," he says with just a touch of confusion to sell it. "But I can assure I've seen no violent escapees." It wasn't even a lie.  

"I didn’t think so," he says with a soft-type exhaustion, too deep under his breath to think Gold would catch it. He's forgotten, they all have, that the Dark One hears most whispered things. Even in this world his senses are heightened, if muffled from what they were before. The curse may have taken away his memories of being Other, but it couldn't change him into something he he's never been. His mother's blood assured that. 

"Well, thanks anyway," the hunter says, turning to go. "And please call if you see anything." 

The bell dings as he leaves and Rumpelstiltskin watches and waits. He's gotten rather good at it.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that the show implied Rumple's mother became a fairy later, but I heard the theory that one really couldn't turn themselves into a fairy and that she had started out that way and became human to have a kid. I liked that better, so I went with it. 
> 
> I've got at least one more part from his point of view and some more from Belle's later. Hope you guys like the foray into our leading man's head for a bit.


End file.
